


the one at the fair

by bellaaanovak



Series: fluffly deancas drabbles [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Carnival, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaanovak/pseuds/bellaaanovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple lil series of random drabbles I come up with about Dean and Castiel. :-) Enjoy and feel free to request something as long as it's super schmoopy and fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one at the fair

**Author's Note:**

> This was written five months ago and originally posted on Tumblr, and I've made a few adjustments, but nothing big.

On this day last year, if you were to ask Dean Winchester if he liked carnivals, he would laugh in your face, light up a cigarette, and proclaim a large argument on what he hated about carnivals. He might have said they’re too loud, crowded, and busy. He could have mentioned the games being rigged and the rides making him puke. One thing he could not stand about carnivals was seeing obnoxiously affectionate couples being, well,  _affectionate_. The one year he went to the local carnival, all of this bugged the crap out of him, and he ended up ditching the scene within an hour to sit in his beloved Impala, blast classic rock, and wait for his brother to get his fill. Sammy was seventeen at the time and didn’t have his license yet, so he couldn’t drive himself home. Dean didn’t mind waiting for him; laying face up in the backseat of the Impala playing air guitar to AC/DC for three hours seemed like fun to him.

On this day last year, if you were to ask Dean Winchester if he liked men, he’d deny it quicker than one could finish the question. Now on the subject on carnivals, he  _did_ hate them. There wasn’t much to like. On the subject of men, one could say he was definitely a liar – partially. Dean didn’t  _like men_. He  _loved one man_.

Being in love was something Dean Winchester was not used to. So, when he stumbled upon Cas Novak, the happenstance of drowning in those ocean-blue eyes, melting into the redness of those cheeks, and handing himself over to the same lips that would allow the words  _I love you_  to flow out of them within two months, he did not know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening when his stomach fluttered, when his face got hot, when his knees felt weak, and when the hair on his arms stood up at the simple touch of a hand on his shoulder or that hoarse tone rolling off of Cas’s tongue so gracefully. Their first kiss was  _sober_ but Dean was high off of the pleasure. It was  _quick_ but after ten, fifteen, a hundred more kisses, each one felt like  _days_  and weeks and months at a time. The first time they made love was on Christmas, and it was damn well the second best Christmas Dean had ever had – 1991 being the  _absolute_ best. Dean didn’t just _have_ good days, but every day spent with Cas – even while they were fighting – was still a pretty damn good day.

Dean fell in love with the way Cas scratched the back of his neck and the way he wouldn’t let Dean hold his hand while he was driving because it was  _unsafe_. Dean fell in love with Cas’s intelligence, his motivation, his potential, and his determination. Dean fell in love with ocean-blue eyes, red cheeks, and small pink lips. Dean fell in love with slacks, blazers, ties, hair gel, watches, and glasses. Dean fell in love with skin to skin, nose to nose, mouth to mouth, hip to hip, and hand to hand. Dean fell in love with every goddamned part of Cas, and if you were to ask him about carnivals on this day, he would still complain. He would complain about the noise level and the large amounts of people. He would complain about the games being rigged and the rides making him throw up and the affectionate couples. The only difference is that he didn’t mind anymore. He didn’t mind that he was loud sometimes. He didn’t  _mind_ playing the games and going on rides and he didn’t  _mind_ that he was one of those obnoxiously affectionate couples. He didn’t _care_ because he was in love and  _that_ is the only thing that mattered to him.

**********

On this very day, of this year, at approximately seven-thirty-six at night, the sun was setting, and Dean was getting tired. It was the middle of August, so it was about seventy degrees outside.

Cas turned to Dean and pouted. “I want cotton candy,”

“Go get some, baby,” Dean handed Cas a ten dollar bill. “It’s quite a ways across the fairground but I’ll be where all the games are, alright?” Cas nodded happily and kissed Dean’s cheek, walking away quickly towards the large area with the food carts and trailers. Dean trailed off into the area of the fairground where the game stands are. They were spread out all over the carnival, but most of them were here. Taking notice to a very large purple teddy bear that was half the size of Sam – so excruciatingly gigantic – he went up to the unaccompanied game stand. He tapped on the flat stand to get the worker’s attention. The worker turned around eagerly and frowned when he saw Dean.

“Look, buddy, bathroom’s that way, I don’t got time for this,”

“Sorry?” Dean tilted his head, confused. “I just wanna play the game, man.”

“ _Oh_. Sorry, guy. Girlfriend coax you into it?” The worker began setting plastic Coca-Cola bottles up on different trays at various distances and positions on a flat stand-up wall.

“Not exactly.”

“Alright, well, it’s two bucks for three balls, and five bucks for six balls.” Dean handed the employee a five dollar bill. He didn’t need more than three baseballs to hit simple targets like this. His father was an excellent hunter, and often took Dean to shoot buck and birds during game season. This was gonna be a breeze, and he was gonna win Cas that damn bear.

Aiming carefully, Dean hit the seemingly most difficult targets on the first try with each of the three balls. Before the employee could begin to speak, Dean’s eyes flew to the purple bear. “I want that friggen bear,” Using a grapple hook on a pole, the carnival worker brought the stuffed animal down and handed it to Dean, who laughed victoriously.

“Enjoy, sir,”

“I definitely – I will.” Dean sent a text to Cas to let him know where he was and sat down on the nearest available table.

About five minutes passed before Dean felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Dean. What is that.”

It wasn’t really a question, and Dean couldn’t  _see_ Cas, but he could damn well hear the smile on his face.

“The hell does it look like?” Dean turned around in his seat to face Cas. He looked up at him and threw an arm around the humongous bear. “I won it for ya.” Cas relaxed his shoulders and sighed happily.

“That thing looks like it would be as tall as me,”

“You’re freakin’ welcome.” Cas smiled and sat next to Dean, kissing him gently on the mouth as he did so. “What was that for?”

“You won me a  _teddy bear_ at a  _carnival_ , Dean,” The older Winchester brother lowered his eyebrows, not understanding. “You just did something really lame and romantic at the one place in the world you cannot stand.”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause I love you, you idiot. Man loves his boyfriend so damn much you don’t expect him to do a cute thing once in a while?” Dean puffed out his chest and squinted.

“Shut up, Dean. Can we get out of here? I’ll feed you cotton candy, y’know. And stuff.”

Dean wasn’t sure  _exactly_ what his boyfriend was talking about, but he figured it had something to do with a very hot Cas feeding him cotton candy in  _bed_. He got up quickly and held the bear to his chest.

“Uh, you’re gonna have to lead the way,” Dean said from behind the massive teddy bear. Oh, yeah. Sam’s gonna love this thing.

“Already on it,” Dean felt Cas’s hand on his own as he pulled him through the fair and to the Impala, which took a good ten minutes. Putting the bear in the back seat, Dean leaned against his precious car and flapped his shirt up and down, airing himself out. Cas walked to him and leaned up against him on the car. “Tonight… tonight was absolutely perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah. Hell yeah it was, Cas. I still hate the goddamn place though.”

“Just stop and kiss me already.”

With that, Dean’s hands were on Cas’s face and their lips were pressed against each other smoothly. Their tongues danced together and Cas’s hands snuck their way around Dean’s waist. Luckily, there weren’t a lot of people around, so their primary concern was not public indecency. Every kiss, every noise, every flick, every  _movement_ was in sync. Every single thing about the two matched, but was completely and utterly different all at the same time. There wasn’t a damn thing Dean loved more about Cas’s cold hands squeezing the small of his back or his gruff voice fading into a soft plea for need while they’re in bed together.

There wasn’t a damn  _thing_ Dean loved more than Cas, except maybe Sam, and he was perfectly okay with it, because Cas loved him all the same.


End file.
